The Tale of Confused Puppet
by mirrored-ivy
Summary: It all began with the murder of a young boy... (Based off of MattPatt's complete Five Nights theory. I do not own Five Nights)


**I was listening to If Everyone Cared by Nickleback when I wonderfully, depressing idea came into my head. So, here it is my lovelies! **

It was so cold and quiet outside, but inside, there were warm, joyous cries of children. Henry wished he was one of those children. But unfortunately for him, he was stuck outside, waiting for his mother to get off the public phone. He waited, and waited, and waited until he was sick of waiting. Daringly, the six year old released his mother's pant leg and made his way over to the building. A diner. The diner. Fredbear's Family Diner. The place every three to ten year old wanted to be, including Henry. As he drew closer to the front door, he casted a look over to his mother, not surprised to see her still on the phone. Grumbling to himself, Henry turned back to go to Fredbear's front door. Just behind, children of all ages were being served cake by the mechanical bear, Fredbear.

Henry had always wanted to go here for his birthday party. In fact, they had scheduled his last birthday party here but had to cancel when his mother became sick. Well, perhaps he could go in for a moment. Maybe he could eat some cake and play with Fredbear. His mother would probably still be on the phone when he was done, right? As a six-year-old, Henry didn't even question the consequences of his actions. But had he been older, this tragic day may have gone differently.

If Henry had been older, he wouldn't have gone inside for the remainder of the party- twenty minutes. His mother wouldn't have gone off the phone when she noticed her son had vanished. She wouldn't have worried and gone sprinting down the street away from the diner.

If Henry hadn't been so young, he wouldn't have come out after the party, wondering where his mother had gone to. He wouldn't have watched another party enter the diner, but refused to enter since he was determined to wait for his mother. He wouldn't have watched as a dark car pulled up beside the diner.

Had Henry been older, he would have fled instead of crying outside the building as the man clothed in a purple top and dark pants slammed him down onto the concrete. He would have fought harder instead of weakly crying as a knife sprinted through his clothes and skin.

However, Henry was six, and there was no way he could have questioned his actions and predicted his fate. He was six, and now, he was dead. He was a dead, little six-year-old lying pale in the arms of his sobbing mother. He was dead, and the perimedics hung their heads that they had come too late. He was dead, and his mother could only wipe the tear stains off his cheeks and the blood off the corners of his mouth. He was dead, and the cops wished they could have prevented it instead of only being able to avenge him. He was dead, and somewhere out there, his killer would feel no guilt.

Henry, an innocent six-year-old, had been brutally murdered because he just wanted to eat some cake. In what world was that fair? In what world would a six-year-old understand why someone was pushing a knife into him?

Henry watched as the scene unfurled before him. His mother was crying into a strange shape. It kind of looked like a human. Henry took a step forward. He looked at what his mother was crying for. When had she returned? Henry didn't remember seeing her approach, nor did he hear her call to him. Once he was close enough to see what his mother was holding, he still couldn't tell what it was. her upper body was curled tightly over the upper half of it. Henry could only see a pair of light brown shorts that went down to the knees and grey tennis shoes. It looked familiar. The six-year-old tilted his head in confusion as his mother threw her head back and let out a heart-throbbing wail. Now was his chance. Henry glanced down at what was lying in his mother's lap, but he soon wished he hadn't. That was him! That was him! But how could that be?! Henry looked at his hands- which he had yet to notice were much paler than they normally were- then to his replica.

As a six-year-old, Henry didn't understand the concept of death. He never really would. But angry, scared, and confused, Henry fled into the diner, surprised to find it empty. Why was everyone outside and not inside with the cake? The thought barely occurred to Henry. He wanted to hide. He didn't like the confusion and sadness of what lay outside the diner. It scared him. Then his eyes caught the glorious Fredbear. Could he hide there? He ran up to Fredbear and jumped. Henry expected to grab onto the side of Fredbear, but found himself passing through. It is a hard thing for a six-year-old to explain, but he knew he passed through Fredbear. Well, not entirely. He was inside Fredbear's stomach, the endoskeleton phasing through Henry's body harmlessly. But as a confused and scared child, Henry didn't question it. All he did was curl himself into a fetal position and weep softly.

Henry didn't know how it happened, but next week, he was helping Fredbear pass out cake to the children.

**I hope you guys enjoyed this first chapter! There will be more to come!**


End file.
